Monthly Archives: April 2016

Advice to an Old Poet Whatever you do don’t make a fuss. Avoid metaphors they’re not for us. Your voice should be casual, ambiguity’s fine. Today’s poet refrains from end rhyme unless in performance or poetry slam spreading a rap … Continue reading →

Punctuation There’s someone in the house, I think. I’m being robbed. No, I’m not. It wasn’t me who shook myself awake. I’m puking the future you’ve already seen into existence. This is how I make night last longer. I sleepwalk … Continue reading →

My Father’s Hands Upon his death I caught my father’s hands and sealed them in two boxes. One contains the rattle of his tools: the stilsons, molegrips, worms and tamps, a hammer and a trowel. His rusted trowel evokes for … Continue reading →

TWO-YEAR LOVESONG and the tide comes and goes like my foot in and out of the water lowering the gate to oblivion i hold your hand in highest regard in the pantheon we were regal all the modern day … Continue reading →

WISHES FOR A CHILD I NEVER HAD I would want you not to be weak to the williwaw, not to be vulnerable to whims of another. To be girded with the resource to negotiate with niceties of the nether. May … Continue reading →

Stardust So, if we are bits of dust, flecked from explosions in a sky fitted with starlight and supernovas, is waking up a call to leave what we know, to a Black Hole that is birth, not death, as we … Continue reading →